


Consequences

by katikat



Series: Consequences [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott didn't bond with Stiles before Stiles' first heat. Now his decision has consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles had always thought that Scott would be his Alpha when his time came. He was so sure of it that that he had never looked for anyone else.  
  
But at sixteen, Scott met Allison, the beautiful new Beta at school.  
  
And then it was too late for Omega Stiles to find someone else. And frankly, he didn’t want to.  
  
Before his first heat, his father reluctantly brought him to the Eichen House Omega Rehabilitation Center. The weather was as somber as the mood in the car because they both knew they had little choice in that matter.  
  
Stiles wanted to keep this private, his stint in the "asylum“ as the Eichen House was called, so he didn’t tell anyone. Yet somehow, Scott found out anyway.  
  
"Why are you putting him in here?" Scott blurted out, all distraught, almost desperate, when he screeched to a halt next to the sheriff’s car and jumped off his bike. Everybody knew of the Center’s questionable reputation.  
  
The sheriff sighed. "I have no choice, Scott," he said softly, showing Scott Stiles' summoning letter, an evaluation order for an unbonded Omega, his unhappiness evident.  
  
"It's only 72 hours, Scott," Stiles said bravely, determined not let his anxiety, his fear show. Especially in front of Scott. "Go home. I will see you next week in school."  
  
The sheriff patted his son gently on the shoulder, whispering, "Come on," and with heavy footsteps they walked through Eichen House's high gate which then slammed shut behind them with grim finality, leaving Scott standing alone and upset on the sidewalk.


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, it wasn’t 72 hours or even a week, but whole 14 long, endless days till Scott was allowed to see Stiles again. The whole time, he kept calling Stiles’ phone - which remained stubbornly unreachable - and coming by the Stilinski house, asking for Stiles, but the sheriff kept sending him away, first telling him that Stiles wasn’t home from the Center yet, then explaining that Stiles was sleeping or not feeling well. It frustrated Scott because nothing like this had ever happened before, Stiles’ house had always been open to him, not matter how sick his best friend was…

"It’s like he told his father to not let me, specifically me, in," Scott complained to his mother, hands raking through his hair.   
  
Melissa sighed. "It’s understandable, honey."  
  
Scott whipped around. "Understandable? _Understandable_? We’ve been best friends since we could barely walk!"  
  
"Yes, and he’s now a full-fledged Omega, there will be rules you will have to observe if you want to stay friends with him."  
  
Scott flung up his hands in despair. "What rules? We’ve never had to follow any before. Why does it have to change now that he came of age? I’ve always been closest to him."  
  
Melissa looked at him sadly. "Sweetheart, you gave up that privilege when you didn’t bond with him. You may stay friends but from now on, you’ll always be viewed as unbonded Alpha and Omega first and foremost."  
  
Scott looked stunned. "I… what?" he stuttered, sitting down heavily.  
  
Melissa sighed again. "Everybody, me included, thought that you two would bond when Stiles came of age. I’m sure Stiles did too. That’s why we were so… surprised when you started dating Allison, especially knowing how close Stiles’ first heat was." She shook her head. "We must have guessed your feelings for him wrong. A simple friendship between Alphas and Omegas, though uncommon, is not unheard of." She leaned forward and touched his hand. "But you have to understand one thing, honey: even though nobody blames you for not bonding with Stiles, your decision will have consequences and nothing will ever be as before."   
  
"But… but why? I’ve never seen him as anything but Stiles, not an Omega. It never even occurred to me… I never thought he would want to…" He stopped, pressing his lips together, because he remembered how Stiles’ behavior changed after he and Allison became a couple - Stiles wasn’t hostile or angry, just… sad, incredibly sad, Scott smelled it on him all the time, his depression never entirely lifting.   
  
He blinked back the burning in his eyes, then looked at his mother. "What should I do?"  
  
Melissa shook her head again, patting his hand. "Things change, honey, and you adapt. Stiles is still your friend, you just have to learn to follow new rules. And you still have Allison, she’s a sweet girl and you love her. Change doesn’t have to be always bad, especially if you go through it with the people closest to you."   
  
His mother’s words gave Scott hope. Yes, change didn’t have to be bad.   
  
But when he finally got to see Stiles, thinner and paler than before, with dark circles under his eyes and with his scent soured so terribly it made Scott want to throw up, he realized that this _particular_ change was. And that he didn’t like it at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott followed Stiles inside the school, just watching from afar, because, yeah, there he was, his best friend, the guy he had shared everything with in the past and yet… yet now he felt like their relationship was screwed forever. And that it was his fault. And that made him self-conscious but also angry, though he didn’t know at whom or why.

So, he followed Stiles, his friend’s sour scent prickling his nose. He didn’t know what to say or what to do and to be perfectly honest, he felt like a creepy stalker. But then Stiles stumbled on stairs and suddenly Scott’s feelings didn’t matter and he was there, in a flash, to catch Stiles.  
  
"You okay?" Scott asked, all worried, because he noticed how pale and unsteady Stiles was. He was holding Stiles by his shoulders and he could feel the tremors running through him. "You don’t look so good, dude."  
  
Stiles blinked, as if it took him a moment to even notice Scott. But when he did, he immediately stepped back, out of his friend’s reach and that stung Scott, a lot.  
  
Stiles cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Just got a little… ” He waved his hand vaguely. “You know.”  
  
 _No, I don’t know_ ,  Scott wanted to say. Because he didn’t. He didn’t know anything because Stiles refused to let him in, refused to share like he used to. Scott used to know everything about Stiles, and not just what his friend had for dinner. He knew Stiles’ porn preferences, for God’s sake! So, Stiles’ unusual secretiveness proved to him more than anything else just how much things had changed between them. And it made something clench hard inside Scott’s chest.  
  
They stood there for a moment, shuffling their feet, looking anywhere but at each other, until Scott couldn’t take the tension laden silence anymore and blurted out: “How was the… thing… in the… uh.”  
  
Stiles cringed and the way he hunched his shoulders made Scott want to punch something. “I would rather not talk about it,” he said quietly, eyes firmly fixed on the floor between them.  
  
Good job, McCall! Scott cursed himself, then cursed again when he noticed how Stiles’ scent thickened, the sour undertones growing ugly and rancid. He couldn’t help himself and wrinkled his nose. It was awful.  
  
Stiles must have noticed because he frowned, asking, “You okay?”  
  
"Yeah," Scott assured him, then decided to be honest, "no. It’s just… " How to say it politely? "It’s your scent, dude. You smell kind of… not good."  
  
Stiles blinked. “Oh. That must be the heat suppressants, ” he explained after a moment of thought, his cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment. “That’s why I was gone for so long. They couldn’t find anything that would work for me. All the usual medication was making me sick and weak and they didn’t know why. In the end, they had to resort to some really strong stuff that’s usually given only to…” He coughed, flushing even harder. “Uh, it doesn’t matter. It’s still making me dizzy but at least I’m not barfing up everything I eat.”  
  
Scott could feel his own cheeks heating up, too. Never before had he associated Stiles - Stiles, for Christ’s sake - with something as intimate as heat suppressants. Then he realized what Stiles said. “You didn’t drive, did you?” Scott asked a bit more sharply than he probably should have but just the idea of Stiles getting dizzy behind the wheel…  
  
Stiles twisted his mouth. “No. My dad drove me. And he’ll pick me up again after school,” he sighed. “No driving for me till the doctors sort out my medication. Which could take months.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’ll rather take months of dizzy spells at home than another day in that place.”  
  
Scott noticed how Stiles shuddered  when he mentioned Eichen House and he wanted to ask again, he wanted to know what happened to Stiles in there - but most of all, he wanted to comfort his friend somehow. Okay, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to hug Stiles, plain and simple. And it made him cold to his stomach that his gesture might not be appreciated anymore.  
  
Clearing his throat, Scott asked something else, something he considered a safer topic, “How long will you have to take the stuff?” Because he already hated what the medication was doing to Stiles’ scent that used to be so… so… warm, pleasant even, like hot chocolate on a cold winter day.  
  
Stiles looked at him as if he was being a bit slow. “Till I bond with an Alpha? Then I won’t have to worry about keeping my heat under control anymore, you know…”  
  
And again, the need to punch something overcame Scott so strongly that he clenched his hands around the straps of his backpack to suppress it.  
  
In that moment, the bell rang and they both looked up automatically.  
  
"Uh, see you later?" Stiles asked.  
  
Scott frowned. “You’re not going to class?”  
  
Stiles waved his hand. “I need to drop off my paperwork with the administration first, my release papers, my… uh… schedule and… stuff.” An unhappy smile twisted his lips. “No privacy for us Omegas, you know?”  
  
Not knowing what to say, Scott simply nodded. Stiles waved awkwardly, then headed down the rapidly emptying hallway, occasionally touching a wall with his fingers as if to stave off a dizzy spell.  
  
And Scott just stood there, watching him and feeling how wrong, wrong, wrong it was, but he had no idea what to do, how to help… How to patch up their broken friendship.


	4. Chapter 4

Scott's team was winning, beating Jackson's 3-0. Scott should be ecstatic, over the moon. It didn't happen often that he wiped the floor with his lacrosse team's co-captain and he really loved the pissed, frustrated expression on Jackson's face, even if it made him look petty. But today...  
  
Every time he turned to the benches, he expected Stiles sitting there and cheering him on. Stiles was the lousiest player on the team - well, no, there was still Greenberg, but Greenberg wasn't just lousy, he was a menace on the field - but he loved being a member, being a part of all the excitement. But now...  
  
Oh, Stiles was still there, just not as a player anymore. He was sitting on the rusting bleachers, nose buried in a textbook, trying to catch up on all that he missed during his stay at Eichen House. He told Scott that since he had to wait for his dad to pick him up anyway, he might as well wait for him here.  
  
The thing was, never before had Scott felt so aware of him. He could hear his heartbeat all the way from the field, he heard every little rustle, his every little shift...  
  
He had also heard every single word Stiles and the coach said during their argument in the coach's office that ended Stiles' membership on the team...  
  
 _"You can't be serious, coach!" Stiles yelled._  
  
 _"I'm dead serious, Stilinski," Coach Finstock replied, for once sounding very grave. "The rules are clear: no mature Omega on the team. I might not like the rules, but I'll sure as hell not break them. I like my job, thank you very much."_  
  
 _"So, what? Just because a part of my anatomy that I have no control over now makes me behave like a randy cat every three months, I'm off the team?" Stiles' voice dripped with sarcasm._  
  
 _The coach paused. "I wouldn't have put it like that, but essentially yes."_  
  
 _"A month ago, you didn't mind me warming the bench! And we both know that's all I've ever done on this team." Stiles sounded frustrated. "Why can't I just keep doing that?"_  
  
 _The coach sighed. "You know exactly why. A month ago, you were pretty much like anybody out there, on the field. Your..._ disposition _... might have stayed dormant. That was the only reason why you were allowed-"_  
  
 _"Allowed?!" Stiles bellowed angrily._  
  
 _"Yes, allowed! That's why you were allowed to join. Now, you're an Omega of age. I read the Eichen House report you submitted, they did manage to trigger you_ despite _your unbonded state! You should feel lucky!"_  
  
 _"Lucky?" Stiles breathed out in disbelief._  
  
 _An uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment. "Look, I'm not saying it's fair. I don't agree with many of the rules that regulate the lives of your kind. But you know how rare Omegas are in our society. You know that because I taught you that! Only one child in a hundred is born an Omega - someone actually able to bear children!"_  
  
 _After a tense pause, Stiles said in a cold voice, "And that's all you care about, isn't it? That's all I am to you now. Just someone to bear as many kids as possible, as soon as possible."_  
  
 _The coach shifted awkwardly. "That's not what I said. But the fact remains that the presence of an unbonded Omega on the field might cause a problem. Several our players are Alphas - your friend, McCall, is one! - and they tend to be... overprotective, you might say. It's their instinct. Or they might resort to..._ unwanted advances _, so to speak. I'm taking you off the team for your own protection."_  
  
 _Again, they both fell silent. Then Stiles gathered his things and with a bitter "Thanks, I feel so protected!" he left._  
  
Scott honestly didn't know how he felt about the whole thing after overhearing their argument. In front of Stiles, he pretended he didn't hear anything but their words stuck in his mind. He knew that things would change for Stiles after his heat, he was aware of the rules, but he had never applied them to Stiles. Stiles was Stiles, not some random Omega whom Scott didn't even know. Also, there was knowing and then there was knowing.  
  
 _"Hey, Stiles!"_  
  
Scott's head whipped around so fast he stumbled and lost the ball. Coach Finstock started yelling but Scott barely heard him, his attention focused on Stiles - and Allison and Lydia who now joined him on the bleachers. The thing was, he had been so focused on Stiles' heartbeat that he didn't even notice the girls. He didn't notice Allison. His girlfriend. He cringed with guilt.  
  
Seeing him looking their way, Allison grinned and waved and Scott smiled and returned her gesture feebly. Then he felt even more like a heel because Stiles, noticing their exchange, immediately dropped his eyes back to his book. Scott knew he didn't do anything wrong - he and Allison were dating - but... now that he was aware of Stiles' feelings, he couldn't help but feel that every show of affection between him and Allison was like rubbing salt into Stiles' wounds. And honestly, he didn't know how to mesh these two relationships together anymore.  
  
 _"You okay?"_ Lydia asked, sitting down next to Stiles. She sounded genuinely concerned which surprised, no, shocked both Scott and Stiles. Lydia was a great girl but Stiles had never been even a blip on her radar before.  
  
Scott saw Stiles' head jerk up, his eyes huge. _"Me? You mean... me?"_  
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. _"Yes, you, dumbass."_ Then her voice softened again. _"You look really tired."_  
  
Stiles shrugged one shoulder. _"Just feeling a bit under the weather..."_  
  
Frowning slightly, Lydia laid her hand on Stiles' knee in a comforting gesture and Stiles blinked at it, freezing. _"I... I heard about Eichen House. If there's anything I can..."_  
  
Shrill whistling almost blew Scott's eardrums. He yelped and covered his ears and when he squinted and looked around, he saw Coach Finstock standing just a few feet away, blowing his whistle so hard he was red in the face.  
  
"McCall! I'm sure your girlfriend can wait till you're finished here, you little pervert! This is lacrosse, not Sex Ed!" Finstock yelled.  
  
"Sur-sure, coach. Sorry, coach!" Scott stuttered, his ears still ringing.  
  
Jackson who was just jogging around, twirling his stick, snickered at Scott meanly. But then he turned to the bleachers - and froze. Scott looked the same way, at the trio sitting there, and he understood exactly what made Jackson pause. Lydia, Jackson's girlfriend, was leaning close to Stiles, telling him something Scott couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. Stiles was hunched over, eyes on the book in his lap, wearing a miserable expression on his face. Lydia had a hand on his back, rubbing it gently, an Alpha offering comfort to a distraught Omega. Scott felt a sharp pang in his chest at that.  
  
For the moment, though, he pushed all the thoughts on what it could mean aside, because when he turned back to Jackson, he knew, he was absolutely certain that this wouldn't end well. But what could...?  
  
Scott's eyes widened when Jackson clenched his teeth angrily and with one practiced swoop scooped up a ball from the ground with his stick. Scott gaped. Jackson was a hothead but surely, he would not...!  
  
He did.  
  
Scott knew he wouldn't make it to Jackson in time, so he did the next best thing. "LYDIA!" he yelled and whipped around towards the bleachers.  
  
The strawberry blond Alpha reacted immediately and without hesitation, without questions, without thinking. Her hand snapped up, catching the ball that Jackson threw just inches from Stiles' face, then she twisted around and glared darkly, furiously at her boyfriend who kept a defiant expression on his face. On the other side of Stiles, Allison jumped to her feet, taking a half-step in front of Stiles who blanched and stumbled back, his book falling from his lap.  
  
Absolute silence settled over the field. Everyone, Coach Finstock included, froze in shock. What Jackson did wasn't just an act of petty bullying. He attacked an _Omega_. He almost caused a serious injury to an Omega.    
  
Then the tense silence was abruptly broken by Scott's furious roar as he launched himself at Jackson and struck him down, punching him hard in the face.


	5. Chapter 5

Scott sat on the hard wooden bench in front of the principal's office, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his hair. He felt awful. He could still smell Jackson's blood on his hands, no matter how hard he scrubbed them clean, it was still _there_. He couldn't believe how bad he had lost it.  
  
But it wasn't just that. His head was _killing_ him. Bright lights were flashing in front of his eyes, everything seemed to turn and twist around him and his hearing was spiking, the murmur of his mother's and the principal's voices in the office behind the door overlaid with a loud hammering, whooshing noise that faded in and out. He couldn't make it stop!  
  
"Scott?"  
  
He jumped, straightening and his sight darkened for a moment. When it cleared again, he looked up and blinked in confusion. "Allison?" He didn't even notice her. What was going on with him?  
  
She frowned and sat down next to him. "You okay?" she asked softly. She looked so worried.  
  
Scott sighed. "Headache," he admitted because there was no use in hiding it, she would notice. She was perceptive like that, his Allison. He almost smiled.  
  
She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Sorry. I'm sure your mom will be done soon and you'll be allowed to go home..."  
  
He winced. Hopefully. He did just send Jackson to the hospital.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, Allison asked, "What happened out there?" Her voice was still soft and concerned but there was a sharp note in it. Was she afraid of him? He couldn't deal with her being afraid of him.  
  
He squeezed her fingers. "I'm sorry if I scared you..."  
  
She shook her head. "I wasn't scared _of_ you, I was scared _for_ you, Scott. We couldn't get you to stop. I was afraid you would kill him. If Stiles hadn't..." She fell silent.  
  
Yes, if Stiles hadn't. But he had.  
  
 _"Scott! Scotty, please, stop! Scott..._ Scott _!"_  
  
 _He couldn't stop. He couldn't. That bastard, that fucking bastard wanted to hurt Stiles! Out of petty jealousy! He deserved every hit, every bruise, every..._  
  
 _Hands on his shoulders. He shook them off with a snarl, but they came back and touched his face. He took a deep breath reflexively and... froze. He knew that scent, soured as it was. He knew it..._  
  
 _"That's it, Scotty. Stop. Just stop, please..."_  
  
 _The voice finally registered. Stiles. Stiles' voice... Stiles' scent... The heavy red fog finally lifted and he could see again, he could hear and smell. He pressed his cheek into Stiles' right hand and Stiles let him, his laugh a bit watery, and petted his sweat-soaked hair with his left..._  
  
 _"Yeah, you big puppy. That's it. Come back to me."_  
  
 _"Stiles?" Scott rasped, his throat aching as if he had been screaming. The petting continued. It felt wonderful because his head was starting to ache._  
  
 _"Yeah, it's me. You back? Lost the crazy?"_  
  
 _Scott sighed and finally opened his eyes. And cringed. He was straddling Jackson who was barely conscious, groaning, blood running freely down his face, nose crooked and lips split. And there were people everywhere, staring at them in mute shock. Allison was there. And Lydia._  
  
 _And Stiles. Who was kneeling next to him, face pale and eyes watery, the corners of his trembling lips turned up in an uncertain smile._  
  
 _"Hey there, my hero..."_  
  
What happened? He had no idea.  
  
"I don't know," Scott said honestly. "When I saw what Jackson did, I lost it. Completely. I wanted to punch him, punish him... kill him," he added softly and Allison drew a sharp breath. He couldn't look at her, he didn't want to see her expression.  
  
Silence settled over them, interrupted only by the quiet voices in the principal's office and the ongoing thumping/whooshing that was making Scott's headache worse by the minute.  
  
Finally, Allison cleared her throat. "Scott, I will ask you something now and I want you to answer honestly, alright? I mean it, no avoidance to spare my feelings, okay?"  
  
He swallowed and nodded. He suspected he knew where this was headed and he really didn't want to go there. He refused to go there even in the privacy of his own mind. He didn't think he was ready for the question she was about to ask. But he owed her an answer.  
  
"What do you feel for Stiles?" she asked bluntly.  
  
Scott closed his eyes. "Allison..."  
  
She squeezed his hand once before letting it go. "No, Scott. Honest answer. You're an Alpha. He's an Omega of age. I'm only a Beta..."  
  
He peered at her and smiled. "There's nothing 'only' about you."  
  
She smiled too, but it was fleeting. He knew that being a Beta was a sore point for her. Betas were barren. She came from an old family with a pedigree as long as his arm. Family that dated its roots back to the French kings. And now the main branch will end with her. She did all she could to be the perfect daughter but she still felt like a disappointment to her parents even though they loved her unconditionally.  
  
"Scott. I love you, I do. But I'm also pragmatic," she stated, her voice straightforward. This, her no nonsense attitude, was the reason why he fell for her. "I know that everybody expected you and Stiles to bond. It was logical and you _are_ very close. You have been for a long time." Her voice softened and now there was a hint of regret in it. "What we have is nice - but it won't last."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest but she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.  
  
"It won't and you know it. For a while I thought it might but..." She sighed and shook her head. "You and Stiles, you two can have something permanent, a bond. I know it's killing you to watch him suffer and I know that you've been thinking about bonding with him. I _know_ that you would do it if I weren't in the picture. Am I wrong?"  
  
He looked at her, into her deep eyes. This was hurting her. Adding to the pain she already carried knowing she was infertile. He could say that she _was_ wrong, that he loved her and nothing else mattered. And it could be good again between them. It could...  
  
And then he remembered Stiles. Remembered how he almost couldn't breathe when Stiles was gone, at Eichen House. Remembered how his heart clenched when he saw Stiles weak and stumbling down the corridor. Remembered wanting to punch something when Stiles mentioned bonding. With someone else. Some _other_ Alpha.  
  
"Am I wrong, Scott?" Allison pressed softly.  
  
"No. No, you're not," he admitted just as softly. Because this thing, this... idea was as fragile as spun glass. _Bonding_ with _Stiles_. His heart skipped a beat.  
  
Allison blinked hard. "Okay," she said. "Okay." She stood up slowly.  
  
He reached out for her. "Allison..."  
  
She turned and smiled bravely, even though her nose was turning pink from holding back tears. Then she bent down and kissed him on the forehead. Her lips were soft and cold and his aching head welcomed the touch. He closed his eyes.  
  
"Tell him, Scott," she whispered. "Tell him soon, before they take him away from you."  
  
With that she straightened up and left. He sat there with his eyes closed, listening to her heels thumping down the hall, the sound growing softer. When it faded out completely, he dropped his head into his hands again and cursed quietly. His head pounded even harder.  
  
When the office door finally opened, Scott felt as if he had been sitting there for a small eternity. He looked up and there she was, his mom, looking... unreadable.  
  
Scott got up, the spikes in his head burrowing even deeper and making him sway. Luckily, his mother didn't notice because she was closing the door at that moment. "Mom?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
Melissa sighed deeply and only then did she turn around. "I don't know what happened and you _will_ tell me, everything. And I mean _everything_ , Scott. At home," she added, her angry voice turning weary. "The principal's letting you off with a warning, blaming your violent reaction on the Alpha's protective instincts or something. Jackson's family promised not to press any charges against you if the school drops charges against him for attacking an Omega. Basically, nothing happened. To anybody." She rubbed her face with her hands. "What a mess, kiddo."  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly. And he was, he really was. He knew that his mom had been at home, sleeping after a hard shift, when they called her. She looked exhausted and stressed. He hated being the cause of it. He _hated_ it. His headache spiked again and he almost groaned with pain.  
  
"Yeah, well..." she grumbled but when she looked at him, she frowned. "You okay? They told me you weren't hurt." She reached out.  
  
He lifted a hand, pressing the heel hard to his forehead. "My head hurts," he admitted, swallowing.  
  
And then a wave of pain worse than ever before crashed over him. It was so sudden that he yelped and dropped to his knees, barely hearing his mother yell, "Woah there, kiddo!" over the pounding, whooshing noise in his ears.


	6. Chapter 6

"Stiles, will you look at me?"  
  
Stiles reluctantly obeyed and looked at Miss Morrell, the school councilor, who sat behind her desk opposite him. She watched him with a patient look in her dark brown eyes. She reminded him of a cat, unreadable and ready to pounce.  
  
"I asked you a question. Will you answer it?"  
  
"Why am I here?" Stiles said dryly. "Because I almost got hit by a ball and the coach freaked."  
  
"The coach had a good reason to 'freak' as you put it," Morrell replied and looked into his file. "From what I've been told, if it hadn't been for Scott McCall and Lydia Martin, the two Alphas at the field, you would've been seriously injured."  
  
"Yeah, well, Jackson's always been a dick," Stiles stated surly, looking down again.  
  
He didn't want to talk about Scott, he really, really didn't. Because he could still feel him, on the edge of his perception, he could still sense him somewhere nearby: Scott was anxious and... in pain, a headache. And feeling all that freaked Stiles out. Because he shouldn't be sensing it, any of it. Not without a proper bond.  
  
And that could mean only one thing: Stiles had done something terrible, something completely unforgivable - he had bonded with Scott McCall.  
  
Just thinking of it made his heart hammer so hard in his chest that he was starting to feel faint. He didn't know how it happened because it shouldn't have been possible - not with HB50 in his bloodstream - the heat suppressant should've blocked any attempt at bonding, that's what Doctor Brunski said, and Stiles hadn't missed a dosage since his return home from Eichen House. He hadn't dared despite the side effects because his regular check-ups would tell. So, how it was possible that he now felt the fledgling bond in place?  
  
Not that it mattered, possible or not, it was his fault and what he had done was ghastly. He had forced a bond onto his best friend, a friend who made it more than clear that he was not interested in bonding with him. There were few crimes more horrible than that. And yet, he had done it. His own actions sickened him. How desperate must he have been, subconsciously, that he had done something like this?  
  
"Stiles? Stiles..." Morrell's voice was coming to him from far away. "Calm down, deep breaths!"  
  
He noticed her coming around her desk to crouch in front of his chair but there was something wrong with his vision, it was growing darker around the edges. Distantly, he realized he was having a panic attack and that made his fear sharpen. He couldn't lose it here, not now, not in front of Morrell. Especially not in front of her.  
  
Because he had seen her, at Eichen House, talking to Brunski. Working with him. He remembered seeing her in the white room where they kept him, where the lights never went out until he felt like they would burn out his eyes, where they pumped him full of drugs and then tied him down when he started fighting their unwanted touches, touches in places no one should ever be touched without their explicit permission.  
  
And he remembered her words, words about duty and about submission, about accepting one's role, words that he had fought with all his might as they crawled inside his brain while she placed her hand on his burning forehead...  
  
 _"It's not about maintaining the balance anymore, Stiles, it hasn't been about balance for a very long time now. We're talking about the survival of humans as a species. And you have to know your place and fulfill your duty. Don't fight it, Stiles. Don't be selfish. Let go and open yourself up to it..."_  
  
He wasn't a cop's son for nothing, he knew mental conditioning when he heard it. And he would never, ever let her back inside his head again. If he could help it.  
  
Just as he flinched away from her reaching hand so hard that he almost fell out of his chair, gasping for breath, his father burst in. Stiles felt like crying from relief and gratitude.  
  
He could hear his dad shouting at Morrell to get the hell away from his son, then the sheriff dropped to his knees in front of him and Stiles almost fell into his open arms, wheezing, "Get me out of here, please, please, get me out of here..."  
  
And his father did, without hesitation, he gathered him up and helped him stand, and fending off Morrell's protests, he guided his stumbling son towards the open door. In the hall, the sheriff turned around and with a dry, "You've helped enough, thanks!" he slammed the door shut, leaving them alone. Stiles' anxiety immediately dropped a notch with a firm barrier between him and the councilor.  
  
His dad helped him lean against a wall a few steps away from Morrell's office, propping him up, then he took Stiles' face in his hands. "Hey, hey, shh... It's okay, it's okay," he whispered soothingly.  
  
But Stiles shook his head slightly and with tears rolling down his cheeks, he rasped, "No, it's not, dad, it's not. I did something horrible..."  
  
In that moment, just as his father, looking confused, was about to ask what happened, there was a scream. A woman's voice. Melissa McCall's voice.  
  
 _"Scott! Scott...! Someone call 911!"_  
  
Stiles' heart skipped a beat and he froze for a moment. Only for a moment, though, then he tore himself away, out of his father's arms, and started running down the corridor, towards the principal's office, the sheriff at his heels.  
  
When he rounded the corner, he almost stumbled and his eyes opened wide when he saw Melissa kneeling on the floor, next to his convulsing son. The principal was standing in the open door to his office, talking on his cellphone, and there were other people in the hall, some distance away, but Stiles barely noticed. He had eyes only for Scott whose back was arched, every muscle in his body taut.  
  
Stiles slid to a stop next to him, on his other side from Melissa, and dropped to his knees, immediately reaching out for him. Before Melissa could stop him, he touched Scott's face, took it in his hands just like his father did with him before, and started calling out, softly, soothingly.  
  
"Scott, Scott, it's me, buddy. It's me... Shh, I'm here..." he was saying, his voice desperate and still hoarse with tears. "Can you feel me? I'm right here, next to you. Shh..."  
  
Stiles could sense his father next to him, could hear him asking Melissa about what happened. Melissa answered something, her voice distraught, but Stiles wasn't listening. His attention was on Scott, trying to calm him down, get him to notice Stiles, just like he had done it on the field when he had brought Scott out of his violent rage.  
  
And it helped. Scott's convulsions stopped so suddenly, it took them all by surprise and everybody fell silent. His whole body relaxed and then, with his eyes still closed, Scott curled up around Stiles, surprising him and everybody present, and pressed his sweat slicked head in Stiles' lap, groaning with relief.  
  
Stiles touched his hair, buried his fingers in it, and looked up anxiously.  
  
Melissa, white in the face and with shaking hands, was staring at him in disbelief. "Stiles...?" she asked softly.  
  
Blinking hard, Stiles looked from her to his father, who seemed just as shocked. "I..." he stammered uncertainly. He didn't know what to say, he was too scared. But then he noticed Morrell, standing a few feet away, watching him speculatively, and his heart dropped. She knew.  
  
Looking down at Scott who had his nose still buried in Stiles' stomach, he petted Scott's hair and hunching his shoulders, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Scotty. I'm so sorry, please, forgive me..."


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair in the hospital hall, head in his hands, unconsciously mirroring Scott from few hours ago. "It's all my fault," he mumbled.  
  
His father who was sitting next to him, laid a hand on his back and rubbed it comfortingly. "You don't know that, son."   
  
Stiles looked up and turned to him, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. "But I do, dad. I do know. Because I can feel him even now. If I had to, I could find him right now, just following the _bond_!" He shook his head and buried his hands in his hair. "How could I have done it to him?"   
  
He had always considered himself a good person, but a good person didn't force an unwelcome bond on anybody, let alone his best friend. He had been so afraid, so scared that the Center would force him to bond with someone - and then he had gone and done exactly the same thing to someone else. He felt only disgust for himself.   
  
"Stiles, we don't know what happened here," the sheriff said reasonably. "If - and that's a big if - you are bonded, then someone, somewhere along the way screwed up badly, that's obvious. I mean, shouldn't your medication prevent you from accidental bonding?"  
  
"That's what I don't get, dad," Stiles replied. "It should. And I take my pills regularly, you know I do. I haven't skipped a dose once. This should not have happened. But it did! And Scott's now paying for it." Stiles looked up, at the blank wall in front of himself, and shook his head, then he said determinedly, "But I will fix it, that I promise."   
  
His father took a sharp breath because he knew what that meant, what Stiles had in mind. But before he could say more, Melissa stepped through the door at the end of the corridor and headed towards them. Stiles jumped to his feet and his dad followed more slowly.   
  
"How is he?" Stiles blurted out as soon as Melissa was close enough.   
  
She sighed. "Still unconscious but reacting to stimuli just fine. They are running some tests, blood, MRI, that kind of things to find out the cause but..."  
  
Stiles swallowed. "But we know the cause, don't we?" he whispered. "Why... why didn't you tell them?"  
  
Melissa looked at him sternly and Stiles didn't blame her for being angry. She couldn't be more angry with him than he was with himself.   
  
"If the cause of his convulsions really is a fledgling bond, a bond he did not agreed to," she reminded him harshly, "then it's a felony, Stiles. You could face charges. They would have to report it, do you understand that?"  
  
"Melissa..." the sheriff spoke up in his defense, but Stiles shook his head.   
  
"She's right, dad," he whispered hoarsely. "As you said, if we really bonded, if I bonded with Scott, then someone screwed up and that someone's _me_ and I'll have to face the consequences."   
  
Melissa shook her head and hugged herself tight. Stiles could see how conflicted she was. It was her son lying here, in the hospital, burdened with a bond he didn't want. But the culprit was Stiles, a boy she helped bring up, who was like a second child to her.   
  
"I just don't get it," she stated wearily. "Did you forget your meds? What?"  
  
Stiles shook his head emphatically. "No, never." He fished the orange plastic bottle out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I take them three times a day, regularly like clockwork, at the same hour, the same dosage, I swear!"  
  
She took the bottle and read the label. Then she frowned. "HB50?" she asked, looking up at him. "That's what they gave you at Eichen House?"  
  
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, no other heat suppressors worked on me. They were making me awfully sick and even this one's making me really dizzy."   
  
"What's wrong?" the sheriff asked worriedly when her frown deepened.   
  
"This is a really strong medication, sheriff. I mean, roasting marshmallows with Napalm, strong. And the dosage is really high, too." She looked at Stiles. "Kiddo, these meds are usually given only to Omegas in correction facilities, to make them literally blank to everybody."  
  
Stiles blushed. "I... I know, I did my research," he admitted. "But that's what Doctor Brunski gave me."   
  
"I believe you," she assured him and handed him back the bottle. "But something's really weird here."   
  
"Could this be the reason for the bond?" the sheriff asked.   
  
Melissa shook her head again. "I don't think so, no. It's a treatment, not a cause."   
  
Stiles stuffed the bottle into his pocket and shuffled his feet. "So... what now?"  
  
Melissa rubbed her face. She had been asleep when she got the call from the school and she looked really tired. "We'll have to wait for Scott to wake up and deal with the fall-out."   
  
Stiles took a deep breath and shot a look to his father. They hadn't had time to talk about it yet, but he was determined to fix the mess he had caused. "I know that Scott didn't... doesn't want the bond. I'll call the Center and ask for a termination." He almost choked on the last word.   
  
"No, Stiles...!" his father started saying.   
  
Melissa's eyes widened. "Stiles, you have no idea what that means, what it entails. It's a painful, irreversible procedure that leaves deep scars in your mind."   
  
"I know that..."  
  
She interrupted him, "No, I don't think you do, kiddo. Many Omegas never recover from a bond break. It literally breaks something inside you. Something that never heals again. It's not a thing anyone undergoes lightly."   
  
He laughed wetly. "Lightly? Melissa, you think I take it lightly? I'm terrified to even go back there, to Eichen House. But what choice do I have?"  
  
The sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. "You can wait for Scott to wake up. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe all this is completely unnecessary."   
  
Stiles laughed again, but there were tears in his eyes. "Of course Scott will change his mind once he finds out what happened. It's Scott, for Christ's sake! He'll blame himself for this mess because he'll be convinced it was somehow his fault. You know Scott." He turned to Melissa. "You both know him!"  
  
Melissa had to nod reluctantly.   
  
"But it won't change the fact that he didn't want this. He'll accept it, he'll even learn to live with it  - to protect me, regardless of it being my fault - but our bond will remain unwilling. What about his life? What about Allison? He loves her! This can't be his decision because he will say yes but for all the wrong reasons! Not because he wants me but because he doesn't want to see me hurt. But that's not good enough for me." He shook his head and lowered his voice. "Besides, the longer we wait, the stronger the bond will be, you know that. If we break it right now, he shouldn't have any lasting effects, should he? As an Alpha, I mean?"  
  
He could see Melissa struggling with herself, weighing the well-being of her child against Stiles', against the fledgling - unwilling - bond. "No, he shouldn't," she admitted after a moment. "Alphas don't feel any urge to bond, that's why the termination hits only the Omegas so hard."   
  
"And since I caused all this, it's no less than I deserve," Stiles stated bitterly.   
  
The sheriff gripped his shoulders and turned Stiles to him. "Stop it! It's not your fault. Don't  talk like that. Ever! You do not deserve it." Seeing Stiles' closed off expression, his father shook him gently. "Do you understand me?"  
  
Stiles blinked hard but couldn't make himself agree with his father - because he was sure his dad was wrong.   
  
Melissa jumped in. "Stiles, you need to wait for Scott to wake up anyway. If you go to Eichen House now and admit that this bond between you is involuntary on Scott's part, they will have to involve authorities. Felony, remember? Don't do anything till you talk to Scott," she appealed to him, her face drawn and worried.   
  
Stiles sighed. They were right, he knew they were right, but he was afraid they were running out of time. Morrell saw him and Scott, she saw what happened at school. And he was sure that she called Eichen House the moment the ambulance pulled away. It wasn't a question of _if_ the Center finds out the truth but _when_. The consequences would be dire in any case but if they actually had to come and pick him up, not only would it be humiliating, he was sure his situation would be much worse then. They would see him as a felon and deal with him accordingly. Still, he was considering risking it...   
  
Just as he opened his mouth to say so, a movement at the end of the hall caught his eye and the breath froze in his lungs. It was Brunski and two of his cronies, looking grim and walking purposefully in their direction.   
  
They knew. And Stiles just ran out of time. 


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles sat on the bed, looking out of the barred window of his private room. The sun was coming up outside the Eichen House. Exhaustion was weighing heavily on his shoulders but he couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had done and what was to come, about his father... about Scott.   
  
_"We've just run out of time," Stiles whispered and nodded behind his father's shoulder._  
  
 _The sheriff turned and seeing Brunski accompanied by two orderlies in white, he clenched his teeth tightly. "They can't have you. I won't allow them to take you away," he swore, taking a step in their direction._  
  
 _But Stiles caught his shoulder and held him back, raising a hand to stop Doctor Brunski whose cronies moved forward aggressively. He wanted to avoid a confrontation at any cost. "Dad, dad... stop. Don't do it," he implored. "You have no authority here, you know that." He turned to Scott's mother. "Melissa, please, talk some sense into him."_  
  
 _Melissa sighed. "He's right, sheriff," she said unhappily._  
  
 _"But how did they even find out?" the sheriff raged._  
  
 _Stiles' shoulders slumped. "Miss Morrell. Our school councilor. I saw her at Eichen House. She works with Doctor Brunski... And she saw us, me and Scott, in the hall at school. She must have called them..."_  
  
 _Sheriff Stilinski turned to his son, his back to Brunski now. "Stiles..." he whispered._  
  
 _"Dad..." he responded softly, his voice just as desperate. "I've caused enough trouble already. Don't do anything stupid. It could cost you your badge. Please, dad. Please..."_  
  
 _The sheriff looked at his son as if his heart was breaking. He pulled Stiles into his arms and Stiles hugged him back just as tightly. He had an awful feeling that if everything went according to the Center's plan, he might not see his father again for a long time. Or ever. That almost broke Stiles._  
  
 _It was Brunski who broke their moment. "Mr. Stilinski!" he barked out impatiently, his voice sharp and cold. "I think you should come with us. And I hope neither you... or your father," disdain dripped from his voice, "will cause a scene."_  
  
 _The sheriff growled under his breath but Stiles stepped back from him reluctantly, blinking hard to hide his tears. "Yeah," he rasped. "Yeah, I'm coming..."_  
  
 _Then Stiles turned to Melissa who was watching him with tears in her eyes and one hand pressed to her lips. "Tell Scott..." He swallowed. "Tell Scott I'm sorry I screwed up everything, okay?" he whispered, his voice shaking._  
  
 _Melissa pulled him into a quick hug. "I will," she said softly into his ear before kissing him on the cheek._  
  
 _When she released him, Stiles turned to his father and in reaction to his quiet, "Son..." he smiled bravely and patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be alright, dad."_  
  
 _With that, he took a deep, steadying breath and turned towards Doctor Brunski..._  
  
And it was humiliating, to say the least. Their parade through the hospital where everyone was staring and whispering, Brunski holding his upper arm so tight Stiles was sure he would have bruises, the ride back in the asylum's marked car, squeezed between Orderly #1 and Orderly #2, as if was on the FBI's Most Wanted list... and then the Center. The physical - as thorough as he ever got - and the questions, the endless questions about why he had done it and how he had done it, over and over again until Stiles felt like his head would explode. In the end, they locked him up in this room with an ominous, "Tomorrow!"  
  
Tomorrow arrived and the clank of a key in the lock suggested he was about to find out what that threat meant.   
  
When the door opened and Marin Morrell stepped through, Stiles wasn't all that surprised. Actually, not at all. He laughed tiredly, then he rubbed his burning eyes. As if Brunski wasn't enough...   
  
She stopped in front of his bed, the door closing tight behind her, a beautiful dark-skinned woman in a black suit in the middle of a room so white his eyes hurt from it. "Something funny, Stiles?" she asked mildly curious.   
  
He pushed himself back to lean against the wall and pulled his knees loosely to his chest. They took his clothes, even his damn underwear, and gave him this bland grey tracksuit and a simple white t-shirt. Not his style at all but at least it was comfortable.   
  
"No," he responded tiredly. "Nothing funny at all. Just someone I should've been able to trust betraying me. And you wondered why I never liked shrinks."   
  
Morrell raised her delicate eyebrows. "I didn't 'betray' on you, Stiles. We are not your enemies."   
  
He snorted rudely.   
  
She sighed. "You're not really helping your case. And you are in a lot of trouble as it is," she warned.   
  
"I know. Believe me, I know. I know exactly how much trouble I'm in," he said sharply. He was done playing nice. "I did something terrible, no matter how unwittingly, and I accept full responsibility for it. But don't tell me you don't have me exactly where you wanted me from the very beginning: completely under your thumb, isn't that so?"   
  
"Is that what you think?" she asked tilting her head slightly.   
  
Stiles shook his head. "I don't think it, I know it. Brunski likes having me here, his very own pet project," he said, voice full of sarcasm. "It doesn't happen often that he gets his hands on an unbonded Omega. He was almost drooling when I first came here. He could poke and prod me to his heart's content because as an unbonded Omega, I'm now in the state's care. And that means in _his_ care. No interference from a pesky Alpha."  
  
Morrell shook her head. "Doctor Brunski is doing a very important research here, Stiles, research you could help him with."  
  
"Research? Is that what you call it these days?" Stiles replied dryly. "Don't think I don't know he's enjoying our 'sessions,'" me made quotation marks with his fingers, "way too much."  
  
But Morrell continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Fertile Omegas are becoming rarer and rarer. We're talking about the survival of our species. Twenty years ago, liberal evolutionists were proclaiming that nature would sort itself out. Today, we know our extinction is closer than ever. Nature wants us dead but we won't let it kill us, Stiles, not when we can do something about it."  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "Define 'do something about it' because from where I'm sitting, it looks awfully lot like you're trying to enslave us and justify it with the preservation of our world. _Your_ survival," he pointed at her, "depends on me and people like me, the Omegas, yet you take away the most basic rights from us, most importantly the freedom of choice!"  
  
"But we are trying to preserve our world here. It's not just an empty justification. And if the means to the end is the limitation of the Omegas' rights, if that allows us to force them to breed more and faster, then so _be it_ ," she bit out harshly. "We will do what's necessary to survive."   
  
He shook his head with disgust. "Spoken like a true zealot Beta. And Omegas be damned, right? We are nothing but brood mares to you. Are you even listening to yourself? In the process of saving humanity, you will destroy everything that makes us humans in the first place!"  
  
"No, Stiles," she replied with a terrifying calm and determination. "We just heed the bigger picture. And you," she leaned closer and smiled, her eyes flashing fervently, "are now a part of it."


	9. Chapter 9

It was the emptiness that woke Scott.  
  
Even before he opened his eyes, he felt something was wrong. He knew it in the core of his very being. There were ragged holes in his mind, in places where he had been whole before. He felt... incomplete, as if a part of him had been torn away.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly and immediately understood that he was in a hospital. White ceiling, beeping machinery, the smell of disinfection. And the pinch of an IV in his left arm. It itched.  
  
He lifted his right hand to scratch it... or tried to. Something... someone was gripping it tight. Scott turned to the right. His mother. Relief flooded him.  
  
"Mom?" he rasped, tugging at his hand.  
  
Melissa blinked sluggishly. She had been asleep, her head resting on the bed next to Scott's hand that she was holding so tightly. Now she jerked awake and sat up straight, her eyes wide. "Scott? You're awake!"  
  
He frowned. "What's going on? Why am I here?"  
  
Melissa's eyes shifted uncomfortably as she cleared her throat. "What's the last thing you remember?"  
  
Scott scrunched his forehead. "Being at school? Waiting for you in the hall? Talking to Allison..." His breath hitched. "She broke up with me," he added quietly.  
  
It was obvious that Melissa was about to say something but this news derailed her. "What? Why?" she asked incredulously. "Because of what happened on the field?"  
  
He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. "Sort of. She thinks... she thinks me and Stiles belong together."  
  
Melissa blinked, startled. "She does?"  
  
"Yeah," he breathed out. "And I kinda agree," he added reluctantly.  
  
Melissa paled. "You do?" All of a sudden, her voice sounded very raw and slightly broken.  
  
Scott frowned at her, unsure of what was going on. "Yes. Yes, I do," he admitted softly, the continued with frustration, "Since he came back from Eichen House, nothing has felt right. Even his damn smell changed!"  
  
Melissa froze. "His..." Then her eyes widened with shock. _"Fuck!"_  
  
"Mom!" Scott hissed, all indignant.  
  
But Melissa didn't pay him any attention. She jumped to her feet and started pacing the small room, still cursing quietly, one hand on her hip, the other rubbing her forehead.  
  
When she kicked a chair hard, Scott flinched. He had never seen his mother so... angry? Disconsolate? Helpless? "Mom," Scott whispered. "You're starting to scare me. What's going on?"  
  
She took a deep breath, stopped and turned to him. Scott could see that she was bracing herself to tell him something, something he would definitely not like. "The people from Eichen House, they took Stiles away."  
  
Scott sat up fast, something clenching tight in his chest. "What...?"  
  
But she continued, "They thought he had forced a bond on you. You went into convulsions which is one of the signs of a forced bond. The bond's initiated by the Omega, as you know, the Alpha then closes it. It usually happens during the first heat, both initiation and fulfillment, easy. When it does not, it becomes... complicated. The Alpha is driven to close the bond and it has physical side-effects. Like convulsions."  
  
Scott was listening to her, wide-eyed. But there was only thing that really stuck in his mind. _"They thought he had forced a bond on me?"_ he almost yelled. "Stiles? Stiles would never do that! I don't care what the... the signs or the side-effects are," he waved his hand. "Stiles would never hurt me like that!"  
  
Melissa sighed. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, I get that now. Because that's not what happened."  
  
That stopped Scott in his tracks. "What?" he said uncertainly.  
  
"Scott, with the amount of HB50 in Stiles' system, you shouldn't have been even able to detect his scent, let alone a change in it!"  
  
He blinked. He was totally lost. "What does it mean?"  
  
Melissa threw his hands up in the air. "Your bond was not forced! It was intrinsic." She returned to her chair, sat down again and touched his hand sadly. "Scott, you and Stiles had an intrinsic, natural bond. It's quite an uncommon thing but not entirely unheard of. It's not driven or determined by heat and it can't be forced or willed. This connection arises from an unusually deep intimacy between the Alpha and the Omega, mostly during a prolonged exposure, isolation. Their minds latch onto each other... they..." she tried to find the right words, "they basically meld together. They become one."  
  
Scott was listening but it just wasn't registering. His mind was full of static. "But... but why us? You said isolation. It's not like we were stuck on island or something."  
  
She laughed sadly. "Son, you two _were_ an island. You have have been inseparable from the moment you met. You never played with anyone else, you never needed anyone else."  
  
Scott was staring at her. He and Stiles were bonded? Really bonded? And had been for who knows how long? "How come I never knew? How come nobody knew?"  
  
Melissa squeezed his hand. "You didn't know because Stiles has been a part of you since you could remember. Your instincts viewed him as an extension of yourself. He didn't register as a mate because he already was your mate." Then a note of regret entered her voice, reproach aimed at herself. "But at least I should've noticed something. But I didn't. Mostly because of Allison..."  
  
That surprised him. " _Allison_? What does she have to do with it?"  
  
Sighing, Melissa explained, "When you started dating her, I thought you just weren't interested in Stiles. As I told you, simple friendships between Alphas and Omegas are rare but they do happen. But I was wrong." She looked him in the eyes. "And for that I apologize, Scott. I'm really sorry. I'm a medical professional. I should have never missed the signs."  
  
Scott shook his head. He didn't blame his mother. How could he? All the signs pointed to his lack of interest, why would anyone look into it any further? Still... "But what about his heat? Why didn't I feel any need to..." He waved his hand. He didn't know how to say it and besides, talking to his mom about sex made him squirm.  
  
"Personally, I've never met an intrinsic bond couple. But I read about them while in school. Intrinsic pairs usually stay platonic because their mind meld nullifies their inborn instincts. Which means, the Omega never experiences heat despite being otherwise healthy." Melissa ran her fingers through her hair. "From what the sheriff told me, the Center had to initiate Stiles' heat with drugs. Artificially. He was ordered to Eichen House because by that point, he should've already gone through his heat and he hadn't."  
  
"Because of our bond," Scott guessed softly. "So, that day, when his dad took him to Eichen House... Nobody told me but I knew. I knew there was something wrong. And I knew where I would find him..."  
  
Melissa nodded. "You sensed it through your bond without realizing it. You sensed a threat and your bond pushed you to protect your Omega."  
  
Scott's mind was working hard. "And his pills..."  
  
She nodded again. "That's why the normal heat suppressants didn't work, they are tailored to unbonded Omegas. He isn't one. That's why they were making him so sick. And why only the strongest ones worked. And it was his medication that drove you to distraction, your Alpha instincts were telling you something was wrong with your Omega because the heat suppressors were blocking your bond, separating you."  
  
"So, on the field..." he guessed.  
  
Melissa answered, "When Jackson attacked Stiles, your instincts went into overdrive, just like his when he tried to calm you down. And you punched through the block, so to speak. But all the parts of your brain where you had been connected before, were now raw. And that imitated a forced bond, same symptoms. But nobody even guessed it could be something else."  
  
Suddenly, Scott looked at her sharply. "But I can't sense him anymore, mom! My mind isn't just raw, as you said, it's not just a headache. There's..." He waved his hand at his head. "It's like parts of me are missing! Where is he? What did they do to him?" Then he froze, a terrible suspicion making his heart skip a beat. "And why are you talking about our bond in the past tense? Why are you saying that we _had_ a bond?"  
  
Melissa swallowed. "They detained him, Scott. Doctor Brunski took Stiles back to Eichen House." She paused, a helpless look in her eyes. "To break the bond, son."  
  
"No!" Scott barked. He yanked the IV from his arm and throwing the blankets to the side, he swung his legs from the bed. His knees were still weak but he would be damned if he let it stop him. "I won't allow that."  
  
Melissa stepped quickly closer and took him by the arm to press a cotton ball to the tiny wound. "Scott, you can't do anything. They took him away yesterday!"  
  
He stiffened and looked at her, wide-eyed. "Yesterday?"  
  
"You slept for almost 24 hours," she explained unhappily. "By now..."  
  
Scott pulled away, looking for his clothes. "Then we must hurry, mom. Call Stiles' dad! We need to stop this madness."  
  
"Scott..." she tried to reason with him.  
  
Scott whipped around, truly angry now. "No!" he roared with all the might of an Alpha. "Stiles is _my_ Omega! He is _mine_! And I won't let Eichen House or anyone else take him from me!"


	10. Chapter 10

_Light... light... light..._  
  
That was all that Stiles registered as they wheeled him through the hospital corridors. In a distant corner of his mind, in a place that wasn't numbed with drugs, he wondered if it was night outside already. He didn't know, he had completely lost track of time.  
  
 _Light... light... light..._  
  
What he did know, though, and what not even the sedatives they gave him could take away from him, was the knowledge of what was about to happen. That dread sank its roots too deeply into his mind to be artificially deadened.  
  
They were taking him to the White Room, the source of most nightmares these days. The things they had done there to him hurt! And now he was about to enter it again.  
  
His head lolled on the thin pillow of the gurney and he blinked sluggishly, a tear running down his temple and disappearing in his hair. Doctor Brunski told him what they would do, talked about it like it was nothing, like they weren't about to rip his mind apart and rearrange it to their desire. Regardless of his wishes.  
  
 _"We'll introduce the breaking liquid intravenously," Brunski said brusquely when Morrell left the room and they were left alone. Well, them and two of Brunski's favorite henchmen. "It will be much easier on all if you work with us on this, Mr. Stilinski."_  
  
 _Stiles grimaced. "But you'll do whatever you want anyway, am I right?"_  
  
 _Brunski looked at him impassively. "Well, you are detained by law, Mr. Stilinski. You did commit a very serious crime. You can't expect any consideration now, can you?"_  
  
 _Stiles looked away. There was nothing he could say to that. Because what he had done to Scott was unforgivable. Did he have any right to ask for anything?_  
  
 _Seeing that Stiles was not about to respond, Brunski continued in the same matter-of-fact voice. "The termination of a bond is a lengthy procedure, it might take several hours, and it's highly unpleasant, of that you need to be made aware."_  
  
 _Swallowing nervously, Stiles turned back to him. "How unpleasant?" he asked._  
  
 _"You'll experience severe pain, migraine and neck pain mostly. We_ will _be rearranging your brain chemistry, Mr. Stilinski. The medication will break your connection with Mr. McCall by changing your neuro-pathways. It will tear them apart and leave them open. Look at it like pulling weeds, the whole plant together with its roots. The plant and its roots being Mr. McCall and your bond."_  
  
 _Stiles had to blink hard. He wanted to be angry at Brunski for talking about Scott and their connection as if it was something not worthy of existence, a weed to be destroyed at whim. But he was so exhausted it made him just sad._  
  
 _"Once your neuro-pathways are open, you'll be introduced to your new Alpha right away. It's better and easier to have a new bond established immediately," Brunski explained._  
  
 _Stiles' heart clenched. "What?" he breathed out and sat up straight on his bed. "What Alpha? Who? I don't want to bond with anyone! Especially not to someone I don't know!"_  
  
 _Brunski frowned at him sternly. "Mr. Stilinski, it's not up to discussion. We were willing to give you time despite the risks an unbonded Omega of age faces in our society every day. You were given four heat cycles to find a compatible Alpha, exactly one year, because we trusted you to be mature about the whole thing. And look at what you did!" he snapped, angrily. "It's obvious you can't be trusted with these matters. Besides, the survival rate of Omegas who aren't bonded again immediately after the termination is very low. And I can assure you we've found a very compatible Alpha for you, Mr. Stilinski."_  
  
 _Stiles looked at him incredulously. "Compatible? How can we be compatible if we've never even met?"_  
  
 _"You're_ genetically _compatible and that's all that matters!" Brunski stated stoutly._  
  
 _"Genetically?" Stiles asked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing._  
  
 _"Yes, Mr. Stilinski. What did you think our research at Eichen House was about? Genetic engineering is the way of the future, especially when it comes to breeding Omegas."_  
  
 _"Are you serious?" Stiles paled with fear. "What... you're trying to breed an uebermensch here or something? Like the Nazis did?"_  
  
 _Brunski glared at him darkly. "I would ask you_ not _to compare us to..."_  
  
 _Stiles interrupted him. "And what if you bond me to that Alpha and your plan doesn't work? What if I bear him only Betas? Or even Alphas? But no Omegas? What if it doesn't work?"_  
  
 _Brunski waved a hand. "Then we will break the bond and start again with another Alpha. Believe me, we've plenty of willing candidates to choose from, all trusted employees of our institution."_  
  
 _Stiles' was starting to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening. This was not just about his mistake. This was something else completely. Was this actually sanctioned by anyone? Was the government aware of their little breeding program here? Did they even care as long as these madmen showed results?_  
  
 _"And speaking of children," Brunski continued, still calm and collected as if he was talking about the weather. "Once you're bonded again - that should go quickly because your mind will be so raw it will desperately seek a connection to heal itself, it'll be instinctual, don't worry - you will have to stand trial, of course. You did commit a felony. But I'm sure that, whatever your sentence will be, we can convince the court to let us keep you here - under strict surveillance, of course. Pregnancy could make the court more lenient, especially in these hard times, so I would advise you to try to get with child as soon as possible, actually during the first heat would be best. That will allow us to see if our genetic mapping was successful or if our pattern needs to be adjusted. So, you see, Mr. Stilinski, your input will be very valuable for our research..."_  
  
 _But Stiles wasn't listening anymore. He couldn't breathe. He was shaking so hard that when he got up from his bed, his knees wobbled. This couldn't be happening. Couldn't be! He wasn't anyone's guinea pig!_  
  
 _"No," Stiles whispered, his heart hammering so hard he could barely hear his own words. "No, no, I won't allow you to do that," he wheezed, quivering. "I need to speak to my dad. To anyone. You can't do that to me!"_  
  
 _Doctor Brunski shook his head. "You're being very unreasonable, Mr. Stilinski."_  
  
 _Stiles' eyes widened. "Unreason... You... you're crazy! You've completely lost your mind if you think I will go along with this!"_  
  
 _Brunski smiled at him thinly. "Actually, I really don't care." He looked at his orderlies. "Hold him," he ordered, pulling a syringe from the pocket of his white coat._  
  
And hold him they did. They held him until the drugs started working, then they stripped him naked and lifted him up on a gurney that Brunski brought into the room, talking around him and joking as he wasn't even there, as if he didn't matter. And for them, he didn't. These people didn't even view him as a human being, just a research project.  
  
The gurney stopped and there was the hiss of a pneumatic door opening. Then the light brightened so much, Stiles had to close his eyes when they moved again, the gurney's wheels now squeaking on the tiled floor, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. Stiles' heart clenched.  
  
The White Room.


	11. Chapter 11

"Get out of my way," Scott growled menacingly when Morrel and two orderlies barred him from entering Eichen House's main facility.   
  
Morrell lifted her hands in a placating manner. "Scott, think of what you're doing. I can understand that you're upset..."  
  
"Upset? _Upset_?!" Scott roared. "How dare you? How dare you take my Omega from me? Not only is it immoral, it's _illegal_! And I swear to God, if you break our bond I will make you pay for it!"  
  
"Scott," Morrell tried again, soothingly. "I don't know what they told you..."  
  
Scott interrupted her fiercely, "They told me enough!"  
  
 _"What I don't get is how they didn't know, in Eichen House? How did they not know that Stiles was bonded when I brought him there the first time?" Sheriff Stilinski asked as he took another curve sharply, tires squealing, lights flashing and sirens blaring._  
  
 _"Oh, they knew," Melissa responded, bracing herself against the dashboard._  
  
 _The sheriff took his eyes away from the road for a second. "What?" he barked out._  
  
 _Melissa looked at him. "They must have known._ They must have _! Bonding changes the brain chemistry, sheriff. And MRI is a standard part of the preliminary physical in Omega Centers. It must be. They can't risk treating a bonded Omega like an unbonded one, it can cause severe damage to their system. They knew, I'm certain of it, but for some reason, they chose to ignore it."_  
  
 _Cursing under his breath, the sheriff looked at her again. "But why?"_  
  
 _Melissa shook her head. "I have no idea what they wanted him for but they must have needed Stiles really badly to cover up his intrinsic bond. And if it hadn't come to that altercation on the lacrosse field, nobody would've ever found out."_  
  
 _The sheriff shook his head and gripped the steering wheel tight. "If they wanted him that badly, why did they even let them out, then? Why risk it?"_  
  
 _"They couldn't afford not to. The trial period of one year is ensured by law. An unbonded Omega has the right to choose his or her Alpha on their own. And they have exactly one year to do it. The government thinks it's quite a benevolent, gracious law," she added sarcastically._  
  
 _"You're telling me that Stiles had exactly one year to find an Alpha?" the sheriff asked incredulously. "And what if he hadn't? What then?"_  
  
 _Melissa just looked at him gravely._  
  
 _"_ Damn it! _" the sheriff yelled and hit the steering wheel with his fist. "They would've taken him away, wouldn't they? And forced him to bond."_  
  
 _Her silence was answer enough._  
  
 _The sheriff shook his head. "Why didn't he tell me?" he asked desperately._  
  
 _"Because he didn't want you to worry," Scott said softly from the backseat. He had been sitting there so quietly that both parents in the front seats almost forgot about him. "He was sure he could handle it himself, alone, like always."_  
  
 _The sheriff looked at him in the rear view mirror and Melissa turned in her seat. "Kiddo..."_  
  
 _But Scott was looking out of the window, his anxiety and fear slowly giving to despair. "We won't make it, will we?" he asked._  
  
 _Neither adult responded which told him all he needed to know._  
  
 _Scott looked at his mom. She had such a sad expression on her face. "What will they do to him?"_  
  
 _She sighed, weighed the pros and cons of telling him the truth and decided to be honest. "They will break the bond with you and force him to transfer it to another, probably someone they had chosen for him from the beginning. Even though I don't know why. Omegas rarely survive the termination of a bond without latching onto another Alpha."_  
  
 _He swallowed. "Is that why you didn't break your bond with dad even after you had separated?"_  
  
 _Melissa nodded. "Me and your father didn't see eye to eye on many things but he's always stood up for the Omegas and their right to determine their fate. He has always supported me to be my own person."_  
  
 _Scott nodded and turned away again. He was trying to reach out with his mind, to find Stiles' on the other end, but all he felt were holes with jagged, sharp edges that caused his headache to flare up again. He physically hurt to be with Stiles again._  
  
 _The sheriff cleared his throat. "Even if we get there in time, I'm not sure how we will actually get_ in _."_  
  
 _Scott snorted. "Don't worry,_ we will _get in."_  
  
 _The sheriff and Melissa exchanged a worried glance. "Alright," the sheriff said. "But how will we get Stiles_ out _, then? They won't let us simply expose their operation, whatever it is. I have no jurisdiction here, not in a government facility. And besides, whatever I say, they will dismiss as the ramblings of a grieving father."_  
  
 _Melissa sighed. "I think... I think it's time to pull out the big guns," she said and pulled out her cellphone._  
  
Morrell tried again. "Scott, listen to me, you're making a big mistake."  
  
Scott stepped closer, Stiles' father and his own mother at his heels. "I don't think so. And I'm done listening. I'm here for my Omega and either you get out of my way, or I'll go through you," he warned her darkly.   
  
The orderlies moved forward threateningly but that wouldn't stop Scott. He was done playing nice with these people.   
  
And stop him they didn't when a scream reached him, echoing deafeningly inside his mind, not in his ears. A scream that he shouldn't have been able to hear through so many hermetically sealed, soundproofed rooms. And yet he sensed it. It vibrated through the holes in his mind, grasping at them.   
  
Jerking hard, Scott breathed out: "Stiles..."   
  
Before anyone could stop him, he tore through the people standing in his way, knocking Morrell aside, then kicking the legs from underneath the man on the left and slamming the one on the right hard against the wall. Then he was gone and running down corridor, in the direction his mind was leading him, towards his Omega.   
  
"Go, go after him," he heard the sheriff yell at Melissa somewhere behind, "I'll take care of these guys. The boys will need you." He heard the man but he didn't pay him any attention. All he cared about was getting to Stiles now, now, _now_!  
  
Left, right, left, down a long corridor and right again. More orderlies tried to stop him but he just bowled through them without slowing down. And then he was there, in front of the first door that didn't open automatically in front of him. Without hesitating, he hit the big red button on the right, and with a loud hiss, the door slid to the side.   
  
At which point the screams, Stiles' screams, hit him full force, so hard he almost had to cover his ears because they were tearing him apart. There was so much pain in them, so much despair and all his instincts were telling him to make them stop, to kill anyone who was causing his Omega so much distress.   
  
Scott froze for a moment because the sharp white light inside the room beyond the door blinded him and it wasn't until he felt his mother's hand on his back that he took a step forward. And once he finally saw Stiles, nothing could've stopped him.   
  
One orderly in green launched himself at Scott, but with a roar, Scott grabbed him by the shirt and literally threw him out of the room. Then another man stepped in his way, this one in a white coat and holding a syringe in his hand. The thought that this man wanted to drug him, wanted to stop him from reaching his Omega, enraged Scott so much that he completely lost control.   
  
He gripped the man's hand, the one with the syringe, and broke his forearm so cruelly the bone tore through the skin. Scott pulled the man, now screeching at the top of his lungs, closer by the lapels of his white coat and when he smelled Stiles on him, he almost snapped his neck. And if his mother hadn't called his name desperately, he would've done it.   
  
"Scott!" Melissa yelled and when Scott looked her way, he saw her struggling with a man dressed only in thin scrubs. She was trying to tear him away from the hospital bed, from... _Stiles_.   
  
In that moment, Scott lost all interest in the man he was holding. He just threw him aside, not caring where he landed, and started for the man who was, despite all Melissa's best efforts, leaning over Stiles. An Alpha. It was the other Alpha. And the man was trying to force Stiles to bond with him.   
  
Scott roared, pushed his mother aside and then gripped the man by the scruff of his neck. The other Alpha was taller and older, he was fighting Scott but Scott wouldn't let go. He dragged the man away from the bed, turned him around and - _"Mr. Harris?"_ his fogged mind registered vaguely - punched him so hard in the face that the other Alpha flew back, and after hitting the wall with a loud thump, slid down to the floor. Scott sneered at him, then he put the Alpha out of his mind, at least for the time being, focusing solely on Stiles.  
  
Almost reluctantly, Scott turned towards the bed because Stiles' screams had quietened down to breathless sobs and low, desperate keening that made his heart ache. And when he at last looked at Stiles, tears sprang to his eyes.   
  
Stiles was white as the sheet he was lying on, completely naked and strapped to the bed by his wrists and ankles. His body was slick with sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes wide and roaming the room unseeingly. His breath was coming in loud, shuddering gasps and all his muscles were twitching convulsively.   
  
Scott stepped towards the bed, lifted his hand and after a moment of hesitation, he laid it gently on Stiles' forehead. "Stiles," he whispered, leaning closer. "Stiles, it's me..."  
  
But Stiles jerked away, his keening becoming louder, ending in a breathless moan of pain.   
  
"Mom?" Scott asked, looking at her mother who was just disconnecting the IV line in Stiles' arm.   
  
She read the label on the bag - on the bag that was almost empty. She closed her eyes tightly and let her head hang for a moment. When she looked at Scott, she was barely holding back tears. "Sorry, kiddo," she whispered.   
  
In that moment, an alarm started blaring, the fluorescent overhead lights dimmed and once the room was flooded with a red glow, the pneumatic door slid shut with a loud hiss, sealing them inside. 


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles was tearing at his restraints, making desperate noises. Tears were running down his temples, disappearing into his hair, while his eyes roamed the room wildly. A silent, "Please, please, please..." was passing through his lips.   
  
"Stiles," Scott tried again, soothingly, but Stiles didn't react, as if he didn't even hear him. So Scott, even knowing Stiles didn't want to be touched, caught his face in his hands. He needed to make him stop moving.   
  
And Stiles did. He froze, even stopped breathing. His wide eyes locked with Scott's and they were full of terror.   
  
"Stiles..." Scott whispered but he was barely heard above the blaring alarm. He looked at Melissa and said, voice heavy with frustration. "Can you do something about the noise, mom? I can't get him to listen to me if he can't actually hear me!"  
  
"I can try," Melissa answered. She looked around for the source of the piercing sound and when she spotted the loudspeaker high on the wall by the door, she dragged the IV stand closer, heaved it up, swung it with all her might and knocked the thing off the wall. Blessed silence filled the room.   
  
"There!" she stated proudly, dusting off her hands. But when she tried the door, hitting the release mechanism several times, it wouldn't budge. "Useless. We're locked in here until someone lets us out."   
  
Scott nodded absentmindedly. That wasn't his priority at the moment. "Shh, Stiles, it's me, it's Scott," he said and in attempt to calm Stiles down, he ran his thumbs over Stiles' sharp cheek bones gently. "I'll get you out of the restraints, okay?"   
  
Stiles lay unmoving, completely frozen. His dark brown eyes seemed impossibly huge in his pale face. It was heartbreaking for Scott to see him so frightened. And he wasn't responding at all. Scott was starting to fear that Stiles wasn't at all aware of what was going on.   
  
"I'll undo the straps now, okay?" Scott informed Stiles softly, then he took his hands off Stiles' face and slowly reached across the gurney to release Stiles from the restraints.   
  
The whole time Scott was unbuckling the heavy leather straps, he didn't take his eyes off Stiles' face for more than a second. But Stiles didn't move, he was watching Scott as if he was afraid of _him_ and Scott felt like crying.   
  
"There..." Scott whispered after he had undone the last strap and lifted his hands, showing that he was not about to touch Stiles again.   
  
Stiles stared at him for a heartbeat, wrists and ankles lying limply in the open restraints. Suddenly, though, he moved like a coiled spring and kicked out hard, taking Scott completely by surprise. Scott wheezed and bent at the waist, one hand pressed to where Stiles managed to hit him.   
  
"What...?" Scott managed to breathe out.   
  
But Stiles was already falling off the gurney, limbs flailing. He hit the floor bruisingly hard because his legs couldn't carry him. He moaned in pain and hunched low, his forehead almost touching the cool tiles. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his right fist to his temple, his body shuddering with dry heaves.   
  
Scott moved slowly around the gurney. He wanted to help but the moment his shoes made a noise on the tiles, Stiles looked up sharply and with a low, keening sound he scrambled ungainly across the floor and into a corner where he curled up and pressed his back tightly against the cold walls.  
  
Scott's heart clenched. He crouched down instinctively so that his eyes were level with Stiles' and slowly moved closer. When Stiles noticed the movement, he hugged his knees tightly and started whispering over and over again, "Please, no. Please, no. Please...," eyes trained somewhere beyond Scott's right shoulder.   
  
Scott stopped, not knowing what to do. He turned to his mother. "Mom?" he asked helplessly.   
  
Melissa who was rummaging through the cabinets, making frustrated noises, stopped her search and took a thin blanket she had found somewhere to his son. When she looked at Stiles huddled in a corner, making himself as small as possible, her face creased with sorrow. "Oh, kiddo..." she whispered.   
  
"What should I do, mom?" Scott asked. "How can I help him when it seems like he doesn't even recognize me."   
  
Melissa sighed. "Your bond's broken, Scott. You have to convince him to bond with you again. _Make him_ , if you have to."   
  
Scott looked slightly horrified. "I will not force him to do anything. Hasn't there been enough of that lately?"  
  
She looked down at him. "Honey, it's not a matter of choice anymore. As I told him once, breaking a bond means breaking the mind. His mind is in pieces right now. And the longer it remains so, the higher the chance that it will drive him _mad_!"  
  
Scott's breath hitched in his chest and he turned back to Stiles who was now rocking gently in place, mumbling something indecipherable, fists pressed to his temples and eyes squeezed shut. The sight of him was killing Scott.   
  
Melissa sighed. "Usually, when a new Alpha's not available after a bond termination, Omegas are treated with drugs that help simulate a bond. It's a very temporary and feeble solution and not always successful - but we don't have the option here." She waved a hand around the room. "I tried to find something - anything - that could help, but there is _nothing_ here! These people were determined to force a bond on Stiles no matter what. And we can't get any medication to help him while locked in here and I doubt anyone out there," she pointed at the door, "is interested in anything but covering their own butts right now."   
  
Scott swallowed. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Actually, he downright hated it. He didn't want to join the ranks of people who took any kind choice away from Stiles. Just the idea turned his stomach. If there was a way to get him to listen...  
  
"How can I get through to him?" he asked more than a little desperate and looked at his mother.  
  
Melissa rubbed her forehead. "Try... try touching his mind. He obviously doesn't recognize you by sight. Maybe he will with his mind."   
  
Scott frowned. "But you said our bond was broken."   
  
"And yet you heard him screaming all the way from the lobby," she reminded him. "Maybe there's something left? Who knows how long you've been bonded. We haven't had the time to do any tests! Longtime bonds are harder to unravel."   
  
Scott turned back to Stiles who was still immersed in his own little world, and took a deep breath. Whispering Stiles' name, he pushed with his mind, touched the holes that were all that was left of their intrinsic bond and tried to fill them with his love for Stiles. Because he did love him, so much so it hurt to even think of never feeling him inside his own mind again.   
  
At first, nothing happened and Scott was about to surrender to his frustration and give up, when suddenly, Stiles stopped moving and Scott started hoping again.   
  
"Yes, yes, it's me," he said softly, reaching out with both his mind and his hand. "Can you feel me?"   
  
Stiles straightened slowly, letting his fists fall from his temples and uncurl. He still didn't seem aware of Scott being there but he obviously noticed _something_ was happening. He tilted his head to the side as if trying to catch a fleeting melody.   
  
Scott laughed quietly because he didn't want to startle Stiles. Then he poured out everything, all his love, joy and happiness at being there with Stiles, all his sorrow, despair and pain at losing their bond... simply everything. He cast it all off in Stiles' direction, knowing that if this didn't work, nothing would.   
  
Stiles blinked, then again and squinted as if trying to bring something into focus. His lips moved...  
  
Unexpectedly, there was a yell so loud it startled Scott  and he whipped around in frustration. Mr. Harris had gotten up while nobody was paying attention and with a wild look in his eyes he was now running towards Scott - and _Stiles_. Scott growled and was about to get up...   
  
But out of nowhere, Melissa was there. She held a heavy metal tray in her hands and when Harris passed her by, not paying her any heed in his need to get to the one he considered his Omega and to eliminate Scott, a threat to his promised bond, she swung the thing hard and hit him over the head with it with every ounce of her power. Without any further sound, Harris fell to the floor, unconscious once more.  
  
Scott gaped at his mother. Melissa smiled faintly and shrugged.  
  
All of a sudden, something moved behind Scott and when he turned around quickly, he flailed in surprise and landed on his butt on the floor because Stiles was _there_ , right there, his face only inches away, and he was staring at Scott intently.   
  
Scott didn't dare to breathe when Stiles lifted one shaking hand and ran his cold fingertips down Scott's cheek gently as if caressing a butterfly's wing.   
  
His voice hoarse from screaming, Stiles rasped uncertainly, "Scott?" 


	13. Chapter 13

Scott didn't know how long he had been sitting there, on the floor. His butt was numb and his back was burning fiercely but he wouldn't move, not even an inch. Because despite all the discomfort, he was happy. Stiles was in his arms, their bond was humming contently and he was happy.  
  
Bundled up in a thin blanket and still naked underneath, Stiles lay curled up in Scott's lap, one hand clenched in Scott's shirt and face pressed into his neck, snuffling gently from time to time. He was sleeping deeply, exhausted and aching all over which Scott could feel through their newly restored connection. The termination of their bond had taken its toll on him.  
  
But now they were together again, even though it had been really hard to convince Stiles to bond with him.  
  
 _"Scott?" Stiles rasped, touching his face oh so gently._  
  
 _Scott nodded and pressed his cheek into Stiles' hand. "Yes! Yes, it's me," he answered joyfully._  
  
 _But Stiles' reaction wasn't happy, just the opposite, he recoiled in horror, eyes wide, and tried to scramble away, whispering, "No, no, no, no, no... You can't be here. You can't... I can't...!"_  
  
 _Scott wouldn't let go, though. He caught Stiles' trembling hand in his and raised it back to his face, then he tilted his head to press his cheek into Stiles' palm once more. "Yes, it's me. I'm here. I'm here with you. And I'm not leaving."_  
  
 _Stiles blinked and shook his head vigorously. "Stop. Don't do this," he sobbed. "I hurt you. I forced you to... You should get away from me."_  
  
 _This time it was Scott who shook his head, squeezing Stiles' hand even tighter. "No. No, Stiles. You don't know everything. You didn't do anything to me. You didn't..."_  
  
 _But Stiles interrupted him. "I did. I did. I'm a bad person." He tugged his hand, trying to get away, and when Scott refused to let go, he sobbed in frustration because he didn't have the strength to tear himself away. "You have to... You have to..."_  
  
 _"No, I won't!" Scott refused firmly. He could feel Stiles slipping away again, their connection breaking. He knew, he was absolutely positive, that if he let Stiles go now, he would lose him, that Stiles would slip away and disappear into his own world again, maybe to never come back. He reached out to him._  
  
 _Stiles screamed and tried to kick and hit Scott, limbs flailing. But Scott wouldn't let go. Pulling Stiles close, he hugged him hard, winding his arms around Stiles and gently touching the back of his head to calm him down. But Stiles wouldn't stop, he squirmed hard, hitting Scott with his fists, trying to escape. In vain, though. In the end, he slumped in Scott's arms, practically lying in his lap, crying._  
  
 _"Shh, shh, it's okay," Scott whispered into his hear, petting Stiles' sweat-soaked hair. "It will be okay, I promise."_  
  
 _Stiles shook his head slightly. "Won't. You don't want... and I have to, I have to..." He moaned, hiding his head in Scott's shoulder._  
  
 _And Scott felt it, he felt Stiles' mind brush against his. His heart jumped with happiness. "Yes! Do it. Bond with me. I know you have to. Do it," he urged._  
  
 _"I made you... It's wrong, you don't want..." Stiles mumbled shivering hard from trying to hold back._  
  
 _Scott hugged him even harder, rocking them gently. "You didn't do anything to me, Stiles. I swear. I promise. You don't know everything. We've been bonded for a long time. You did not force a bond on me." When Stiles shook his head again, Scott continued, "My mom told me. We had an intrinsic bond, Stiles, a natural one. We were meant to be. Our bond was not your fault."_  
  
 _Stiles whimpered and curled up even tighter. "But Doctor Brunski said... the Center... Miss Morrell... they said I hurt you..." he said in a small voice._  
  
 _Scott had to blink back tears. "No, you didn't hurt me. You didn't. They lied to you. They lied. I swear." When Stiles moaned again, pain literally radiating off him, Scott pleaded with him because he could feel Stiles' mind starting to break under the strain of holding back, "Stiles, I swear I want this. I want you. Please, you have to let go. Let go. Bond with me._ I can't lose you! _"_  
  
 _And then - there it was, at first just a gentle touch, then a flood of_ Stiles-Stiles-Stiles _in his head, the torrent sealing the holes in Scott's mind, filling them, overflowing and spilling into every nook and cranny that hadn't known him before, becoming a part of Scott, Scott-n-Stiles, one being... Scott almost sobbed in relief._  
  
 _Stiles let out a silent moan, his whole body going limp in Scott's arms. He slumped against Scott and fell unconscious - but he was still there, inside Scott's mind, new pathways burning bright, their bond humming with life, making Scott's head throb with a dull ache from its intensity. He had no idea it could feel like that. He laughed, kissing Stiles' temple gently._  
  
 _Melissa who until that moment held back to give them as much privacy as the open room allowed, stepped closer now and handed Scott the thin blanket she had found earlier. "He'll get cold fast," she said softly, smiling brightly at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Great job, kiddo."_  
  
 _Scott smiled too and then he bundled up his Omega -_ his Omega! _\- in the blanket, making him as warm and comfortable as possible under these circumstances. His Omega. He couldn't stop grinning._  
  
When the lights finally changed back from dark red to blindingly white again, Scott groaned because the glare stabbed his eyes. Stiles slept on undisturbed, though.  Scott hated the idea of waking him up but he knew he had little choice. The change in lighting meant that someone in charge had arrived and decided to cut the alarm. He could only hope that said person would be on their side. If not... Scott swallowed. He wouldn't let them take Stiles away from him. Never again.  
  
Melissa who had settled down on the floor near the door after tying Harris' hands and legs together with her belt behind his back and stuffing a piece of cloth into his mouth, jerked awake and sat up. She rubbed her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, then she looked around and glared at Harris who had been trying to get out of his restraints for some time - in vain, of course, Scott had been watching.  
  
When her eyes fell on her boys curled up by the wall opposite the door, she smiled, got up and went to them. "How is he?" she whispered when she crouched down next to them and pulled the blanket aside to look at Stiles.  
  
Scott shrugged slightly. "I can feel him hurting," he admitted a little unhappily.  
  
Melissa sighed and touched Stiles hair, petting it gently. "That's normal in this case. He will be sore for some time." She braced herself, then said, "He needs to see a doctor, honey." When Scott frowned at her, she continued, "I know you don't like it - he won't like it either, I bet - but there's no way around it. He went through a very traumatic experience, not just physically but also mentally. He won't need just a thorough physical. He will need to see a psychiatrist, too. At least once for assessment."  
  
Scott's frown turned into a glare. "Stiles doesn't need a shrink! Not after this. Not after Morrell! Enough people have played with his mind, don't you think?"  
  
"Scott..." she started saying but was interrupted by the hiss of the pneumatic door opening.  
  
Melissa got up and stepped in front of the boys protectively. Hands on her hips, she glared fiercely at the people at the door for a moment. But then her whole posture relaxed and her shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh, Rafe, thank God..." she whispered.  
  
Scott who was looking down at Stiles, shaking him lightly to wake him, jerked his head up hearing his father's name. He knew his mother called him from the car on their way here, he was there, he listened to her trying to explain the situation to him. But if he were honest, he hadn't believed that his dad would come. He had lost faith in him a long time ago. But now, Rafael McCall, Special Agent of the FBI, stood in the doorway, rumpled and exhausted but clearly determined and steadfast and Scott had never been happier to see him.  
  
Accompanied by Stiles' dad and with several people hovering in the background, Rafael stepped into the room and took it all in - the overturned, broken mess, Harris tied on the floor and his family huddled on the opposite side of the room - with one glance.  
  
"Melissa," Rafe said softly when he reached her and hugged her tight for a moment. "I came as fast as I could."  
  
"I know, I know you did," she replied just as softly with gratitude and relief in her voice, as she stepped back and aside, revealing the boys sitting on the floor.  
  
The sheriff moved past the McCalls and dropped to his knees next to Scott and Stiles. "My son?" he asked Scott fearfully and reaching out with one hand, he pulled the blanket aside to see.  
  
Scott had to fight a strong urge to jerk away, had to swallow a growl, an instinctual "Mine, mine, mine!" climbing out of his throat but luckily not passing his lips. He chastised himself. This wasn't some random Alpha, this wasn't Harris trying to take Stiles away from him. This was Stiles' _dad_!  
  
Still, something of his reaction must have leaked through the bond because Stiles groaned in protest, hand flexing in Scott's shirt. "Yours," he slurred, burying his face deeper into Scott's throat.  
  
The sheriff blinked in surprise, laughed and running his hand over his son's hair gently, he smiled down at him. "Yeah, kid, you're his. No one's taking you away from him, not again." Then he turned to Rafael and frowned darkly. "Right?"  
  
Rafael sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Right," he agreed reluctantly. "But first, we need to clear a few things up..."


	14. Chapter 14

In the end, they weren't allowed to go home. Of course it wouldn't be that simple.  
  
"We are _not_ staying here!" Scott stated resolutely, gently rubbing Stiles' back.  
  
Stiles was sitting on a gurney, in a soft grey track suit someone finally found for him somewhere. His bare feet were dangling loosely and he was pressed to Scott's side, face tucked in Scott's shoulder. He was half-asleep again but every time a loud noise echoed through the corridor to where they were moved to allow the FBI process the crime scene, he jerked awake and looked around dazedly. Scott wanted to get him somewhere safe where Stiles could finally rest.  
  
Rafael sighed. "Scott..."  
  
"No! We are not going to spend another moment here. Not after everything these people have done to Stiles! And you can't make us!" Scott protested loudly and when Stiles mumbled something discontentedly, he petted him in apology.  
  
"Actually, I can," Rafael responded, but before Scott could start arguing again, he continued, "But that's not gonna be an issue because I actually agree with you."  
  
Scott blinked. "You do?"  
  
"Yes! And I would've told you if you would've let me speak!" Rafe said with no little frustration in his voice. "You can't stay here, if for no other reason than because you're both material witnesses and since we don't know who of the personnel here was in on the whole thing, you would be in danger here, especially with both Doctor Brunski and Miss Morrell on the loose."  
  
That didn't even occur to Scott. "Oh, right."  
  
Rafe sighed again. "But you also can't go home." He raised a finger when Scott opened his mouth to protest. "Scott, Stiles needs to be in a hospital! Look at him!" He waved a hand at Stiles.  
  
And Scott had to admitt, no matter how reluctantly, that his father was right. Stiles was coming slowly back but he still hadn't had a really clear moment since the termination of their bond. Scott wasn't worried - yet! - because his mother told him that was completely normal and as long as their bond was intact, everything else would sort itself out, but Stiles was clearly in no shape to go home.  
  
Scott grimaced and nodded. "Alright, so where?"  
  
Rafael waved Melissa over. "Your mother told me that the local hospital had special bonding units available in the Omega wing. Is that so?"  
  
Melissa nodded. "Yes. They are specifically built for Omegas in distress, a quiet zone, so to speak. But, Rafe," she lowered her voice and leaned closer, "these rooms are incredibly expensive, our insurance..."  
  
But Rafael waved a hand. "I'm commandeering one for our material witnesses," he pointed at his son and his mate. "When I informed my superiors of what was going on, I was ordered to do damage control here. If this gets out, it'll be a nightmare not only for Eichen House but for our government, too! We are looking at a multimillion dollar lawsuit, if you decide to go that way, that is, so borrowing a bonding unit in the hospital - and for a good reason, too! - might be seen as a conciliatory gesture."  
  
Rafael looked at his son, then at his ex-wife, carefully avoiding staring at Stiles for too long - for which Scott was grateful. His dad or not, Rafael was still an Alpha and Scott's Omega was incapacitated. Scott was on edge and not liking it at all.  
  
Melissa turned to Scott and he shook his head and said, "I don't know. And right now, I don't really care. We need to get away from people and rest." He hugged Stiles around his shoulders, brought him closer and Stiles hooked his fingers in his pocket.  
  
"Alright," Rafael nodded, "let's get this show on the road, then!"  
  
Which had been three days ago, as far as Scott could tell. Since then, they had been mostly asleep or prodded and poked by doctors.  
  
Scott hated to think back to the first physical they had given to Stiles' after their arrival in the hospital. Stiles was barely conscious but when the nurse tried to undress him, he started fighting like a cornered animal, caught in a waking nightmare and it took Scott almost half an hour after he had sent everyone out of the examination room, to calm Stiles down and convince him that he needed to be examined. Stiles acquiesced in the end - very reluctantly - and he kept a tight, almost bone-crushing hold on Scott's hand the whole time, not releasing him even for a second.  
  
And when the examination became intimate, Stiles started crying softly, not making a noise, which almost broke Scott's heart. He ran his hand through Stiles' hair gently, kissing his forehead and promising that it would be all over soon, that he was there and it would all end in just a moment. After it was all over, finally - to Scott it felt like hours - and they had been brought to their unit, Stiles was almost incoherent again and Scott couldn't wait to take him to bed, a real bed, and just hold him, feel him, knowing that Stiles was safe and sound and with him, right there.  
  
And now here they were, three days later - Scott based his estimation on the number of meals they had been given - in a soothingly beige and green room with no windows, curled up together on a soft, big bed, clean and fed and rested. And Scott was finally starting to unwind, to feel that maybe, just maybe it would be okay.  
  
"I can feel you staring," Stiles mumbled with his eyes closed, face buried in Scott's shoulder.  
  
Scott laughed. "Yeah. Well, I guess I am. And I like what I'm seeing," he said contently.  
  
Stiles blushed slightly, then he stretched like a satisfied cat, his t-shirt riding up and uncovering a dark trail of hair on his soft white belly. Scott wanted to reach over and pet him. And he could. So he did. Stiles immediately curled up again, giggling. Ah, ticklish! Scott grinned.  
  
Smiling, Stiles rolled onto Scott and looked down at him with shining eyes. They could feel each other's happiness humming through the bond. "So," Stiles said resting his pointy chin on Scott's breastbone and making Scott squirm for a moment. "When will we be sprung?"  
  
Scott sighed and rested his hands on Stiles' hips. "I don't know. Nobody's talking. And the door's locked. I tried to ask for my dad but no luck."  
  
As if summoned, the door opened and Rafael stood there, accompanied by both Melissa and the sheriff. Scott and Stiles sat up quickly and maybe a little guiltily - even though they had no reason to feel guilty.  
  
"Ready to go home, kids?" Melissa said, grinning.  
  
Stiles sighed in relief. "Oh, yes! I mean," he waved his hand, "nice room and all but a day longer and I would've started gnawing at the doorknob to get out!"  
  
While they were dressing in the clothes their parents brought them, Scott asked: "Any news on Doctor Brunski?" He pretended he didn't see Stiles falter for a moment.  
  
Rafael sighed. "No. Both he and Morrell remain unaccounted for."  
  
"Someone must have helped them escape," the sheriff added, sounding angry.  
  
Stiles inquired casually with his back towards the others, "Do you think you will catch them?"  
  
The adults exchanged a look. "Honestly?" the sheriff said in a heavy voice. "I don't think so. Whoever helped them must have had connections, money. It might have... It might have even been someone from the government," he added, looking uncomfortably at Rafe.  
  
Both boys snapped around. "What?" Scott exclaimed.  
  
Rafael sighed again. "I don't like it but I agree." He looked at his son, then at Stiles. "From what I understand, they were doing genetic research at Eichen House. Their field was genetic engineering. They were trying to find a way to boost the declining number of Omegas in our population."  
  
Stiles nodded. "Yes, both Morrell and Brunski told me that."  
  
"Yeah, well," Rafe rubbed his forehead. "Imagine how much that would be worth to our government, if their research proved to be successful, if they really managed to find a way to stop what's happening and restore balance again."  
  
Stiles swallowed and Scott could feel his fear spiking through their bond. "But they were... they were talking about genetic mapping!" He turned to the sheriff. "Dad, they planned to match up Alphas and Omegas based on their genetic code, making such bonding mandatory , not a choice! We are talking about the complete dehumanization of Omegas, here!" He started breathing faster, his horror almost overwhelming. "No government would support that, right? _Right_?"  
  
Scott stepped in front of Stiles, catching his face in his hands and making his mate look at him. "Shh, Stiles. Calm down. Calm down," he whispered, pushing as much peace and comfort through their bond as he could. He wanted to wrap Stiles in a blanket and hide him from anything that could hurt him, kill and maim anyone who would even look at him wrong.  
  
Stiles caught one of Scott's hand in his and pressed his cheek into it, closing his eyes and breathing in sync with Scott until he calmed down. When his heart stopped racing, he opened his eyes again and nodded at Scott who was smiling at him gently.  
  
The sheriff stepped forward. "Son, nobody's saying that that's what happened here, nobody knows for sure. It's just a possibility. Brunski and Morrell might just as well be lounging on a beach in Mexico right now," he laughed but they all heard how false it sounded. The sheriff was too honest a man to lie convincingly, especially to his son.  
  
Scott turned towards the others and hugged Stiles around his shoulders with his arm, squeezing reassuringly. "So, what now?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
"Well," Melissa said and looked at her ex-husband and the sheriff. "According to all the tests, you're alright, your bond is intact, so there's no reason for you not to go home and live your life."  
  
"As if nothing happened?" Stiles asked a bit bitterly. "Eichen House almost ruined our bond. They almost forced me to bond to a guy twice as old as I am, to my former _teacher_ who has hated my guts since my dad gave him a ticket for speeding once! And I should simply forget about that?"  
  
"No, of course not!" the sheriff assured him. "Eichen House was closed, their research confiscated. The investigation is still on-going. But unless we manage to catch Brunski and Morrell or some other person responsible, there's nothing you two can do. You will be asked to testify if this ever gets to court, of course, but at the moment, you're free to go. Isn't that what you wanted?"  
  
Stiles made a frustrated noise. "No. Yes! I... I just want to see someone punished. Someone needs to be held responsible!"  
  
"We will do everything we can," Rafael promised. "We won't allow them to simply sweep this under the rug and let the research continue somewhere else. You have my word on that. I will do whatever I can!" He looked at Scott. "I know I haven't been here when you needed me before..."  
  
But Scott just shook his head. "You're here now, dad. And I appreciate it more than you'll ever know." He turned to Stiles and smiled at him. Stiles met his eyes and smiled too.  
  
"Alright, let's go, you two!" Melissa said brusquely. "You have school tomorrow!"  
  
Both boys groaned and Scott wailed, "Mom!" 


	15. Epilogue

He had been feeling itchy and twitchy the whole day long. Like he had ants in his pants. It was annoying and irritating and it made him grumpy. He needed Scott and he needed him now! He hadn't seen him since Friday, their double date with Lydia and Allison - and where did that come from? - and now it was Sunday, only Sunday, and he felt like it had been months since he had last been with Scott. Even though he talked to him just that morning on the phone and he could feel him through their bond every second of the day. He didn't understand what was going on with him but he hated, really hated this clinginess that he was manifesting. Wouldn't it be simply _awesome_ if he turned into one of those hanger-ons who wouldn't let their partners breathe? Perfect, just about perfect!  
  
"Hey, hey, hey," the sheriff chastised him when Stiles banged the dishes from their Sunday lunch together, a tradition in their little family, so hard the whole cupboard rattled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing!" Stiles barked out irritably and when he turned around fast to put the glass he was holding away, it slipped from his wet hand and smashed to pieces on the floor. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck it!" Stiles yelled.  
  
"Stiles!" the sheriff snapped. "I don't know what your problem is but stop it. Now!"  
  
Stiles breathed raggedly, buried his hands in his hair to tug at it hard and closed his eyes. He was hot, his heart was racing and he felt like crying all of sudden. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.  
  
His father frowned in concern and stepped carefully closer, the shards on the floor crunching under his shoes. "Stiles?" he asked softly, reaching out. "You okay, son?" Gently, he touched Stiles' face, then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. "You are a little hot. How do you feel?"  
  
Stiles dropped his hands, his shoulders slumping and looked at his dad. "Like I'm about to crawl out of my skin. Jittery. And I don't know why," he whined. He hated whining.  
  
The sheriff paused, then he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Son, when did the doctors say your next heat would come?"  
  
Stiles blinked at him. Then again. "My...? No, not for another month! They said so. I even marked it in the calendar!" he said petulantly, pointing at the wall calendar.  
  
His dad rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah... no. I think you should call Scott."  
  
"What?" Stiles stammered and reddened. He was not talking about having sex with his Alpha to his dad. He was not! He would have to die of embarrassment otherwise. "No. They said... I mean... I'm not in heat!" he protested vehemently.  
  
The sheriff sighed. "How would you know, kid? Honestly. You've had exactly one heat so far and that was artificially induced. You had no pre-heat symptoms. And this," he waved his hand at Stiles, "is it. Your mom was the same. Almost bit my head off once for leaving a dirty mug on the counter."  
  
Stiles scowled. "I'm not in heat. I'm not!" he yelled, hitting the counter with his fist. Then he looked down at his hand as if it belonged to someone else, paused and grumbled, "I'm in heat, huh?"  
  
The sheriff grimaced. "Yeah, I think so."  
  
Stiles muttered darkly and crossed his arms on his chest, his face scrunched in a frown.  
  
Laughing, his dad patted him on the shoulder. "Go on, call Scott. I'll clean up this mess and then pack a bag and sleep over at the station. You two will need some... privacy. I'll also call the school tomorrow. Go on."  
  
Flushing, Stiles retreated hastily from the kitchen, his father's soft laughter at his heels. God, this was so embarrassing! After what he had been through in the last few months, he thought he had lost the ability to feel embarrassed around his dad - his father had to literally carry him to the bathroom the first few days after his first stint at Eichen House, after all! - but no, apparently not.  
  
And if that wasn't enough, now he had to give a booty call to his Alpha slash boyfriend. How did you call someone to tell him you needed him to come over and fuck you through the mattress for a day or three? How? Fast, that was how.  
  
When Scott picked up his phone, Stiles wouldn't even let him say hello. He blurted out, "I'm in heat! Come over and do me or I swear I'll find you and do you against a lamp post, if need be!" And he hung up. Not exactly smooth but it would have to do.  
  
Because Stiles was nervous. He hadn't thought he would be this nervous but he was. He didn't know why. In the months since their bonding, he and Scott got intimate. They made out, they touched and kissed and got to know each other's bodies and preferences... They just didn't... go all the way.  
  
Stiles offered - however haltingly, his experience at the Center still fresh in his mind - he even went so far as to offer Scott the immediate completion of their bond. It would've meant going to the doctors and asking them to induce Stiles' heat medically, but Stiles was willing to do it, for Scott, he would - because he knew how hard their incomplete bond was on Scott. Alphas were driven to close the bond in a physical manner during the Omega's heat, the bond was mainly physical for them, whereas for Omegas it meant more of a mental connection. But Scott adamantly refused.  
  
 _"No, Stiles. No more mucking around with your body chemistry. There has been enough of that, don't you think? We will wait and do it as it should be done, naturally. No more drugs. I'm not an animal, you know, I actually_ can _control my urges." And then he kissed Stiles' nose and their following make-out session left them both boneless and breathless._  
  
So, they talked about it. At length. And still, Stiles was nervous. Anxious even. Though as he sat there, in his room, waiting for Scott to arrive and listening to his father cleaning up the kitchen and then packing an overnight bag, he was starting to feel... something else. A dull, almost desperate ache inside, an ache that made him want to rub his thighs together and whine. He was getting hot and his need of... _something_ was growing stronger by the second.  
  
Of course he had read a lot about Omegas in heat. But that had all been theory. Nothing measured up to the real thing, nothing could've ever adequately described this... this _want_ that annihilated every other thought and emotion. His first heat had been all pain, unfulfilled need and desperation and he had expected it to be like that always, he was convinced that _those_ feelings were normal and his dad and others were just trying to sugarcoat it, to make him feel better - not that he had ever admitted it to anybody. But this... Stiles whined deep in his throat and curled up on his bed, his hand sneaking downwards as if of its own will.  
  
When he finally heard Scott's bike pull in their street, Stiles scrambled off his bed and raced down the stairs, almost knocking over his dad in his haste. The moment Scott opened their front door - he had long stopped ringing the bell - Stiles jumped at him, wound his arms around Scott's neck and started kissing him, really kissing him like he had never before, deeply and hotly and with desperate whimpers escaping his throat. Scott dropped everything, his helmet clattering to the floor, caught Stiles by the hips and brought him closer, reciprocating with just as much enthusiasm.  
  
"Oh, God!" Stiles' dad groaned, sneaking past them towards the door, bag in one hand, the other covering his eyes. "Can't you two wait till I'm out of the house, at least? Or better yet, out of the block? This is me knowing way too much!"  
  
They didn't pay him any attention, too caught in "Want!" and "Now!" and "God, _yes_!" Though when the sheriff slammed the door shut and yelled through it, "Use protection! I'm way too young to be a grandfather!" they finally broke apart, giggling, and hid their flushed faces in each other's throats.  
  
They waited till the rumble of the sheriff's car disappeared in the distance, hugging tightly, then they moved apart slightly, their noses still almost touching and looked at each other, both going slightly cross-eyed, which made them laugh again.  
  
"Hi," Scott breathed out, smiling softly.  
  
"Hi," Stiles replied, feeling their bond hum happily.  
  
Kissing the tip of Stiles' nose, Scott asked eagerly, "Ready to complete our bond?"  
  
Stiles grinned. "Oh, yes!"  
  
And then he gripped Scott's hand and dragged him upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, folks. At least for now. I still have ideas for a side-story or three that would pad out this main fic. And possibly for a sequel, very angsty one, of course. I just felt that this part of the story needed to end here, for them to have a few happy years before... Nuh-uh, that's for the sequel-that-might-be. Thank you for sticking with me till the end!


End file.
